


Saccharine

by WeekendWriter



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, Gen, Kissing, POV Second Person, Reader is Deputy (Far Cry), Sleep Deprivation, The Bliss Made Them Do It, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, ambiguous deputy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-14 13:56:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16041842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeekendWriter/pseuds/WeekendWriter
Summary: A collection of soft stolen moments between the Deputy and each of the Seeds.





	1. John

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my [Tumblr](https://weekend-writer.tumblr.com) but I figured I'd share it here too. Come visit me and yell with me about how these boys need some love.

The first knock that sounded somewhere out in the bedroom didn’t catch your attention as much as it should have; sue you, you’d earned this relaxing time. After countless days (weeks now, even) of running every which way in Hope County at the drop of a hat, you figured that if anybody deserved to take a relaxing bath, it was you. And now that you’d gained the ability to do so at John Seed’s Ranch, no less, you were going to take full advantage of it.

Taking the ranch hadn’t exactly been the slam-dunk endeavor you’d been expecting. There were far more guards present than when you’d first scoped the place out, resulting in an all-out firefight that had no doubt put far more bullet holes in the wood paneling than you wanted to. Despite the place being under the ownership of John fucking Seed for the past few years, the ranch was gorgeous and pristine, a perfect place to lay down some foundation for the Resistance.

Yet unsurprisingly, you were the only person willing to live in it for the time being. Though the Resistance had spared a few people to keep watch in the event that John decided he wanted to take it back, those people refused to step within five feet of the building itself. Probably had something to do with John’s ‘if these walls could scream’ rant.

You certainly weren’t going to let those words keep you from enjoying the enormous bathtub in the master bathroom, complete with fucking jets. For once, you were grateful for just how extra John was as you soaked in the warmth and relaxation.

A light thud echoed across the tile from the bedroom. You glanced over the edge of the tub into the darkness and spied no movement; still, you called out into the room. No response met you but you couldn’t bring yourself to be worried, not when the jets were doing their best to pummel your back muscles back into some kind of order. If someone had broken in to kill you, well–

At least you’d die with the tension finally bled from your shoulders.

By the time the water had lost its initial sting and started to fade to luke-warm, there had still been no interruption from any intruders. You shook your head at the paranoia as you padded yourself dry with an especially fluffy towel. If anybody even so much as stepped on the grounds near the ranch, the Resistance would raise one hell of a battle cry before heading them off. This was probably the safest place in the county at the moment.

So you dressed in sweats and a flannel shirt and continued to ignore the way the hair on the back of your neck stood on end until you flicked the lamp on the table to life and nearly jumped out of your skin.

The room was cool with the night air, the window at the edge of the bed now cracked open, and was decidedly not empty. Despite the stillness of the intruder, your first instinct was to grab the nearest item for defense (a hairbrush, of all things). When the burglar in question still didn’t move, your breath caught in your throat as you stood up straight.

John was asleep, still unaware of the danger lurking in the room, and it was the most relaxed you’d ever seen him. You supposed you should have been offended that he’d essentially slunk through the window and made himself at home, but a snide voice in the back of your mind reminded you that this was his bed, after all. His skin was easily visible in the moon’s glow, a stark contrast to the dark tattoos that littered his torso. When you noticed that the skin went on for miles, you let out a faint choked noise from the back of your throat.

The only thing covering John at all was a fine sheet draped over his slim waist.

He’d really made himself at home, then. You realized you were staring so you forced your gaze back upward and met a muted blue glow in the darkness. His hair was untamed from its usual slicked-back place. His eyes narrowed, that small crease in his brow apparent, and you knew without asking that he recognized you, even in his half-awake state. 

He didn’t speak. You didn’t break the silence. The two of you stared, unsure of the next step, until finally, the man huffed and settled back into the comfort of his pillow.

“I haven’t slept in four days… so either come get in or get out.”

His voice was scratchy with sleep, the words barked out as though it physically pained him to stay awake long enough to speak. You jumped at the words, startled by their notion. He knew it was you, clearly, and yet he was offering you solace and the comfort of what you predicted to be unbelievably soft sheets.

It was bad taste to kill a man in his own home while he was asleep, especially when said man had clearly given you a free pass when he could have easily strangled you in the bathtub, you reasoned. Before you could lose your nerve, you headed over to sit on the edge of the bed. This was madness, you told yourself, and yet here you still were.

Clearly, neither of you were going to be at each other’s throats tonight, resolved to some impasse for the time being. The severe absence of sleep was apparently what it took for John to lose the sadistic streak and admit that he was actually just a man with human needs.

You settled into the sheets beside him and almost jumped at the smooth texture that greeted you. Silk sheets. You’d been sleeping on the occasional couch in what would likely be considered squatting conditions and yet this motherfucker had been regularly sleeping on silk sheets. You should’ve taken the ranch long before now. You tried to ignore that the sheets were almost as blue as his eyes as you simply reveled in the smooth fabric against your hands.

Beside you, John stirred. This time, his bleary eyes didn’t even open as he reached out and tangled his fingers in your shirt. The poor guy was clearly on the wrong edge of sleep deprivation and no longer cared that you were the enemy. Instead, he seemed desperate for the comfort that would ease the difficulty of sleeplessness. You could feel the frown on his face more than you could see it in the darkness. His hands fumbled clumsily with your shirt buttons, but he didn’t seem to be in a hurry to steady them.

The whole thing was terrifyingly amusing. “Thought you were going back to sleep, grumpy?”

His response was a series of unintelligible mumbling. John, it seemed, was not someone happy to be woken up from sleep and you felt your lips involuntarily turn up at the thought. You wondered briefly what he was like first thing in the morning, but you shut that idea down hard. He’d probably slip from the bed and disappear once the early morning light hit and if he didn’t, you knew that you would. You couldn’t give him the opportunity to properly wake up next to you and remind himself that yes, he was actually supposed to be tearing into your throat with a knife right about now, thanks.

But as you finally gained enough sense to pull back, his grip tightened and pulled you closer to him. You slid effortlessly over the sheets and into the curve of him; he was putting off heat like a furnace and when you remembered why that was you made to slide backwards or sideways or literally any other direction than the one that was putting you up against a naked John Seed –

– but you froze when you felt his lips against yours. Soft lips, lips not demanding but simply resting against yours to offer possibility and sweetness. John pulled back with an equally soft sigh but didn’t release the vice grip he had on the front of your shirt, not until he had finally grappled with each button and attempted to pull it off of you.

It absolutely wasn’t endearing how unsuccessful the bleary Seed was at tossing your shirt over your shoulder. So much so that, in fact, that you pulled it from your frame and gently dropped it beside the bed yourself.

The second your skin was freed his hands were on you, but this time, you didn’t flinch. It wasn’t a painful touch; it wasn’t aimed at causing any harm. No, it was the slow wander of touch-starved hands finally indulging. His calloused fingertips tickled over your ribs, traced over your stomach, ghosted gently over your hips and it was infectious. Before long, you had both hands buried in soft tousled hair and it was just as soft as the small noises occasionally rumbling in his throat.

When one of his hands ran the length of your thigh, you swore the noise turned into a downright whimper. It was the only sign you needed to slip the sweatpants from your legs and banish them to join your shirt on the floor. This time, his hands found their way around both of your thighs and he pulled you forward to meet him again, seeking all of your skin to press against his.

This time, the kiss was more urgent, and it matched the intensity of the grip he had on your waist. You tried to break for air but each time, he followed until he turned his attention to litter your jaw and neck with kisses. The urgency, the want, pouring off him in waves was overwhelming, and you realized with a start that it was masking an underlying wave of fear.

So you slid your hand around to grip the back of his neck and tipped him gently until you were able to roll over top of him to show him that you were here to stay. John fell easily, his eyes still closed but his face the picture of trust as he settled under you. He sighed softly as you brought his hands up to your face, your chest, allowing him the touch he so clearly desired as you leaned down to steal yet another soft kiss.

Not steal, you realized. The man seemed more than happy to give; he just needed the right circumstances. Circumstances that were safe, circumstances that let him act uninhibited and chased the doubt and uncertainty plaguing him like a dark cloud that insisted since childhood.

The two of you took your time, a slow exchange of lax kisses and smooth touches, and you couldn’t remember the last time you spent this much time enjoying the simple comfort of another body against yours.

Eventually, the two of you lost momentum, fading as John finally succumbed to much-needed sleep. As you settled onto your side, he turned and nestled in to the space between your arms. You were more than happy to wrap them around him as he huffed out a small snore.


	2. Jacob

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning to readers: this does involve bliss and characters kissing while under the influence of it which can fall under dub-con elements since it is technically a drug, so this is your warning ahead of time if that’s not your thing.

The warehouse that loomed ahead of you looked as foreign as a massive monster holding any and all kinds of secrets within its depths and yet it still looked like salvation compared to what was tearing after you through the woods. Jacob Seed was not a man to be fucked with, and hours of aggressive tracking and threatening shots far too close to your head for comfort tore your last shred of sanity to pieces. After your daring escape from his clutches at the Veteran’s Center, the herald himself had decided to track you down and bring you back home.

His words. Not yours.

Which is how you ended up in this sick game of cat and mouse through the dense trees of the perilous Whitetail Mountain terrain. Dodging the trees had been particularly difficult for you, resulting in more than a few instances of bark embedded in your forearms, but posed little to no threat to Jacob’s sniping ability.

Damn military man.

You bolted around another thicket of trees and settled your back against a particularly thick one in time to see wood splinter just a few feet away from you. He was getting closer, his aim somehow more impeccable as he ate up the distance between you. You’d been foolish to assume that his advanced age would give you an advantage. These mountains were his home, giving you little to no place to hide that he wouldn’t be able to find.

Still, though, forcing his hand at close combat in the shadows of a building seemed favorable to getting your head blown off your shoulders at long range in the middle of the woods.

The unmistakable sound of metal against metal echoed through the otherwise silent forest and gave you the chance you needed; you bolted for the safety of the warehouse before he could reload his rifle in time to get another shot off.

A breath left you in a rush as you slammed the door closed behind you and settled against it. There was nothing around you to block the entrance with; you didn’t even have a pipe or a bat on your person to secure it with. As your eyes adjusted to the dim light that streamed in overhead, you crept across the dusty floor and weaved around the large crates, stacked and forgotten. Blood roared in your ears as you willed yourself to calm your breathing. Jacob Seed was an absolute predator; if he couldn’t somehow smell you coming, he’d surely hear the ragged breaths you drew in the enclosed space.

The warehouse door shut with a bang that practically rattled your teeth. He was playing with you, then, intentionally alerting you to his presence to build the terror that was already threatening to consume you.

And if that wasn’t bad enough, his normally low voice rang out in an unusually high taunt. “Come on out, honey. You’re only putting off the inevitable.”

Fucking hell. You repressed the urge to cover your mouth in fear that even the slight movement would tip him off to your location. An escape plan desperately ran through your brain. You’d do anything to evade his clutches, to avoid the reception you knew was waiting for you at his compound and the sick things he’d make you do the second he had you back in his clutches. While interacting with Faith hadn’t exactly been a picnic and your time spent with John even less so, you were genuinely afraid of what Jacob was capable of. The man burned through quantities of his men quicker than wildfire, ready and willing to dump anyone too weak to further his cause.

You really didn’t want to give him the opportunity to wonder whether you might fall into that category.

Large, steel-toed boots thudded across the concrete floor. The empty space threw the noise this way and that, leaving you with no idea of his actual location. Against every screaming instinct, you inched up to peer over the box providing you cover.

Bright, blue eyes shined back at you through the hazy warehouse light.

“Fuck.” Abandoning all stealthy pretense, you launched yourself over the crate and bolted for the back. Heavy footsteps pursued you as adrenaline coursed through your weary veins.

The back of the warehouse was a mess of a maze, sharp corners and twisting turns at every step. You bodily slammed into too many walls to count; the only solace was the fact that you could hear the extra-large man smashing into every possible surface behind you in his haste. The back loading-bay door finally appeared ahead of you; light streamed through the top windows and from the gap between the bottom of the door and the concrete.

Enough space for you, thankfully. With a grunt and a last burst of speed, you threw yourself forward as though stealing home and slid gracefully through the gap in the door. Fresh air slammed into your lungs, followed by something solid into your knees. Your entire life flashed before your eyes as your brain registered the fucking bliss barrel you’d nearly kicked over. The barrel in question wiggled precariously on its bottom rim before settling back on the ground. The contents of the open container remained within the confines of its walls.

That could have been bad.

Could have – and suddenly was, thanks to your miserable luck. You turned from your place on the ground in time to see Jacob, agile as a big cat, as he glided effortlessly under the door. There was no telling whose eyes were wider, yours or his, and you couldn’t even get the words out of your open mouth before he crashed right into you – and you into the barrel.

Tepid liquid immediately splashed about as you took the barrel out with Jacob’s momentum. Thanks to the complete and utter surprise of his movement, you were treated to a mouthful of bliss as it poured down on the two of you like some kind of sick, acid rain. Jacob’s grunts and curses were drowned out by the violent splash and slam of the drug and its container. You could only laugh as you spat the substance from your lungs. Maybe bliss lost its effectiveness the longer it sat unused and abandoned, and maybe the barrel had been sitting out long enough that the effects of the drug would be minimal. But when had you ever been that lucky?

With a grunt, you heaved the heavy drum away from the two of you and crawled out of the pool gathered on the cracked concrete. It dawned on you then that you were supposed to be running from the eldest Seed, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stand.

At least the herald you faced was as bad off as you currently were. Bliss drained down Jacob’s scarred face and dripped leisurely from his beard at a slow crawl. You diligently watched a drop that traced its way down his neck, pausing only as it dipped over his Adam’s apple and continued down to dissipate in his shirt collar.

Staring. You were staring. The thought snapped you back to reality, to the haze of green clouding the edges of your vision like blinders. Fuck, so the drug was still as effective as the day it was made, then. Green crept through Jacob’s brilliant blue irises slow like SLOTH and he heaved a sigh that you echoed back at him. Neither of you were inclined to return to your chase, it seemed.

Movement overhead caught your eye. The soft rustle of leaves overhead stole your attention. Fixated on the dappled light filtering in from above, you missed Jacob returning your earlier gaze as he intently watched the droplets that dangled from your hair, traced your skin, fell from your lips. When your eyes dropped to him again and took in his brow furrowed in concentration, you laughed. What could be so important to steal his attention when the wind flicked the forest to life around you?

A creeping feeling rose up your spine when you spotted the mist rising from the pools of bliss between the two of you. There was something ominous about the sight, something that stood the hair on the back of your neck at attention and brought fear seeping into your bones strongly enough that you rose to your knees in preparation for sudden flight. And then, you finally heard it–

– a peal of laughter so ethereal you weren’t even sure if it was real.

“Jacob.” Words felt like putty in your unwilling mouth. “Jacob, d’you hear…”

“Hmm?” The redhead seemed too preoccupied with tracing surprisingly delicate lines in the residual groundwater with his fingers and you weren’t sure he’d heard you until he finally glanced up with those eerily bliss-clouded eyes. “Hear what?”

Now that the laughter had subsided, the silence around you was downright deafening. You glanced about as quickly as your drug-heavy head would allow you to, but you saw nothing among the trees. She always appeared out of nowhere to stop you dead in your tracks; no matter how valiantly you tried to run, it was always in vain. Complete and total control was hers in this domain, and even here in Jacob’s region, unease sat heavy in your spine as the bliss floated about your head.

She was coming. She was coming to take you and as always, there was nothing you could do to stop her.

At some point during your existential crisis, Jacob must have inched closer to your stiff frame because he was suddenly there, blocking out everything else in your field of view. The scars you knew to be present on that marred face blurred together in your hazy vision and you reached out without thinking to brush your fingers along his face.

Surprisingly, Jacob didn’t flinch. “What’s wrong?”

He had to have meant your sudden change in demeanor, wanting to know what had caused you to slip into this bad trip. “She’s gonna…” You gulped down the rest of the words, but Jacob was surprisingly patient as he waited for you to choke them out. “She’ll get me, Jacob, this is how she does it she always gets me–”

“Shh, shh.” He sounded like a hunter calming a wild animal and that’s exactly what it felt like when he placed his own massive hand on your cheek so that he could rub his thumb over the skin there. “Honey. You think I’d let anyone else take you?”

“I…” It was all too easy to let yourself melt into his touch, amplified by the misty green cloud that narrowed the world down to just the two of you. You cleared your throat.

“You belong to me.” The words were spoken barely above a whisper and as soon as they were out, they hung in the air between you. His pupils threatened to swallow the green clouded haze of his eyes. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.” Slowly, Jacob’s eyes traveled the length of your arm, down to the bruises that dotted your knuckles. You’d earned those when you’d attempted to punch your way out of his cage days ago. With a strained noise, Jacob brought your hand to his face. His lips ghosted gently over each knuckle in silent apology.

Your breath caught in your lungs. Bliss bliss bliss, you tried to remind yourself. Maybe Jacob wasn’t even here. Maybe you were imagining things. Maybe Faith had already taken you to let you stew in the depths of your own deepest, darkest wants. Because part of you had always wondered about Jacob; if he hid a softer side under all that grizzled exterior that was just waiting for the right person to bring it out. You’d hardly thought that person could be you, but…

Jacob spoke again, his mouth still pressed to your hand. “I’ve taken you because you have to be strong. Have to be strong survive what’s coming because if you don’t…” Again, his eyes met yours – though this time, you could see clarity in them.

You could read exactly what he wasn’t saying in this moment of pure honesty.

The first press of his lips to yours was tender, unsure, wavering in its confidence.

And then you knew you’d been right all this time. Jacob was capable of incredible infection, but sturdy walls carefully crafted through the difficult years had pushed all away from finding out.

Except for now. Except for you.

Jacob seemed to be thinking along the same lines. “Only you.” He leaned back enough to press his forehead against yours, but you read the action for what it really was: a chance for you to back away, for you to come to your senses and run like he was so sure you would.

You lunged forward and crashed your lips to his, removing all traces of doubt and pouring as much feeling as you could into it to chase away all lingering doubt. Jacob groaned into the kiss, a sound you could feel vibrate through your chest where it was pressed against his.

Time dawdled in the air around you like flecks of the bliss. You were in no hurry and pressed soft kisses to his lips, the corners of his mouth, each tiny fractured scar that crossed his face like lightning. He hefted you over his thighs to straddle his waist, more than happy to let you continue your ministrations up close. Massive hands roamed the expanse of your back and slowly worked their way up your shirt. When you sighed against his lips, you could feel the corners of them turn up.

Jacob was smiling. You leaned back enough to take in the view; his smile was brighter than the remnants of bliss clouding the air could ever be. “Could do this all day,” he murmured as his hands worked their way around to your front. Calloused fingers danced over your ribs with surprising dexterity.

“Good thing we’ve got nowhere to be.” You beamed back at him and twisted your fingers through surprisingly soft hair. Surprisingly, the eldest Seed went easy when you tugged, allowing you to manipulate him in uncharacteristic show of trust you weren’t sure you deserved. When your lips descended on his neck, he let out another series of low noises. You couldn’t agree more with him; you could spend all day like this, roaming and exploring the man seated underneath you that was offering more of himself up than you’d ever thought possible.

With a yelp badly disguised under a snort, Jacob tugged his neck back from you as you reached what was apparently a sensitive spot. Blue-green eyes met yours, eyes finally purging the blur of bliss from them. Your hands tightened on his shoulders of their own accord and his whole frame stiffened. You steeled yourself for the curtain to come crashing down, for Jacob to finally wade back into the land of sobriety as you had done and realize that he was almost laying underneath the enemy of all that his brothers stood for.

But it never came. Jacob’s eyes searched yours, something akin to your own defeat reflected at you.

A subtle noise of affirmation escaped him, and then he kissed you lightly as he snaked his fingers through your hair to tip your head to the side. Through the residual buzzing bliss around you, you swore you could feel him murmur two words against your neck as he continued his sweet assault.

“Only you.”


End file.
